


Perhaps we can encourage it to grow

by smarshtastic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Winged!Dean, wing!kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-24
Updated: 2012-05-24
Packaged: 2017-11-05 22:12:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smarshtastic/pseuds/smarshtastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas's sexual exchanges have very odd consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perhaps we can encourage it to grow

Castiel was a very patient man. Angel. Angman. Hugel – whatever he was, he was very patient. But Dean had been in the bathroom for an exorbitant amount of time, even for Dean, and Cas hadn’t heard anything for a very long time. The angel cocked his head in the direction of the bathroom. 

“Dean?” he asked uncertainly. No response. Cas mentally scrolled through things that might have gone wrong in the bathroom, and came up with a surprisingly long list of bad possibilities. He trotted to the door and knocked, like Dean taught him. “Dean?” he asked again. This time he heard a little noise behind the door and it sounded like distress. Cas pushed open the door and was on Dean in milliseconds. 

Dean gave a very unmanly squeak in surprise. He tried to pull a towel around his naked body. “No! Cas! Don’t – don’t look.”

Cas blinked. Dean wasn’t bleeding or hurt in any way he could tell, and Cas had seen him naked many, many times (they had sex hundreds of times at this point, but Dean hated that Cas counted their encounters, for some reason), but there was something in the tone of his voice… Cas blinked again when he recognized it: embarrassment. “Dean, what is it?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. Dean pulled the towel tighter around his shoulders. 

“Nothing! Nothing – it’s – “

In one deft movement, Cas tugged the towel from around Dean’s shoulders. Dean’s little noise of protest fell on deaf ears when Cas’s eye landed on the single, underdeveloped wing that sprouted from Dean’s shoulder. It was the muddy brown color of new or molting feathers, malformed and limp where it lay against his shoulder blade. It looked incredibly odd against the hunter’s body. Cas reached out to touch it. 

“Don’t,” Dean said, pulling back sharply. Cas blinked. 

“Why are you embarrassed?”

Dean’s face reddened. “It looks stupid.”

Cas considered this for a moment. “Our bond is profound… I thought perhaps our… exchanges might manifest themselves in an unusual way. I didn’t think...”

“That I’d grow a stupid gimpy wing?” Dean snapped, cheeks hot. 

“I did not expect it to manifest like that, no,” Cas said. Dean made a face.

“Well, great. How the hell am I supposed to walk around with the stupid thing? It looks ridiculous,” Dean grumbled. Cas reached out to touch it again.

“Perhaps it just needs time to grow,” he said, catching Dean before he ducked away again. “It needs to be groomed, Dean.”

“How about it needs to not be attached to my back –“

“Dean, stop,” Cas wrapped an unyielding arm around Dean’s waist. His other hand slid up the small of Dean’s back and stroked through the downy feathers of Dean’s little wing. Dean shivered, the wing fluttering limply. 

“That feels weird,” Dean murmured. Cas’s hand stilled, but he didn’t take his fingers away. 

“Is it very sensitive?” Cas asked. Dean tried to shift away but Cas’s grip was strong. 

“Yes, damn it.”

“Perhaps we can encourage it to grow more,” Cas said, running his fingers through the downy feathers again. The wing twitched again, responding to Cas’s touch.  
“It’s – that feels weird,” Dean mumbled, leaning his head on Cas’s shoulder as the angel’s fingers carded through the soft feathers. It was sending shivers up and down his spine in a strangely pleasant way.

“Wings are very sensitive,” Cas said matter-of-factly. “You’ve seen how sensitive mine are.”

Dean shifted against Cas, pressing flush against him. “Uh huh.”

“Are you enjoying this?” Cas asked. Dean nodded against Cas’s neck.

“’sgood, Cas. Don’t stop.”

Cas smiled, fingers stilling against Dean’s back. 

Suddenly, Dean found himself sprawled on his stomach on his and Cas’s bed. He picked up his head to look over his shoulder. Cas was standing over him at the foot of the bed, clothes gone. The angel climbed onto the bed and settled between Dean’s knees. He leaned down and kissed the base of Dean’s little wing, which made Dean’s whole body shake with pleasure.

“What the hell – “ Dean sucked in his breath. Cas smiled against the skin of Dean’s back.

“Your wings seem more sensitive than normal,” Cas commented, breath shifting some of the downy feathers. “This might make grooming… distracting.”

Dean shivered again, his hips lifting off the bed and pressing back instinctively. His cock was very, very interested in what was going on, and Dean was too distracted by the pleasure of it all to think about how very weird this was.

Cas produced a brush from nowhere and carefully ran it over the short length of Dean’s gimpy little wing. Dean’s whole body shuddered, his senses going haywire with the sensation. 

“More, Cas,” Dean breathed, pillowing his head in the crook of his arm. Dean had always been curious about Cas’s wings, but never understood how much it affected Cas when he touched them. He was getting a pretty good idea of it now. He wondered how Cas could stand it, but, then again, this was anything but normal. 

Cas brushed out Dean’s wing carefully, ignoring all of Dean’s little twitches and spasms, but listening very intently to the little noises and soft moans that Dean was making into the pillow. 

“Cas, please – “ Dean said muffled, half on his knees. Cas finally set down the brush and admired his handiwork: the feathers of Dean’s wing were softer, shinier, if not still the muddy-brown color of molting feathers. 

“Yes, Dean.”

Cas reached one-handedly for the lube they kept in the nightstand. His other hand kept stroking Dean’s little wing, making Dean press back more and make these little noises that he would vehemently deny ever making later. A lube-slicked finger ran over Dean’s ass, pressing against him but not pushing in, even though Dean tried to push back against it. Cas held him firm. 

“Stop,” Cas said, moving his hand away from Dean’s wing to squeeze his hip. “Be patient.”

Dean, unlike Cas, was not a patient man. He huffed a little breath of frustration at the angel, but Cas ignored it. He slid his finger into Dean, who opened up for him eagerly. His other hand slipped back up Dean’s side, fingers playing just at the base of the limp wing while his other finger stretched and pressed inside Dean methodically. 

“Fuck – fuck – “ Dean moaned into his arm. His cock hung heavy and hard between his legs. As Cas added a second finger inside of him, other hand stroking his wing, his cock started leaking in earnest, dripping into the bed sheets. He could come just like this – Cas fucking him open with his fingers, his other hand just moving between the feathers on that stupid wing, his stupid wing. But, fuck, this felt too good. He pressed back for more. “Cas, c’mon, more – “

Cas’s fingers twisted inside of him, knuckles pressing on his prostate, and then Dean was coming hard into the sheets, cock untouched. Dean was pretty sure he yelled. He collapsed in the sticky mess, his whole body still shaking from the after effects. Cas’s fingers moved lazily inside him. 

“Your wing is incredibly sensitive, Dean,” Cas commented, the corner of his mouth twitching. 

“Bzuh?” 

“Indeed,” Cas slipped his fingers out of Dean, who moaned. He didn’t stop touching Dean’s wing as he slicked his own cock, lined up, and pushed into Dean. Dean arched back against Cas, mouth falling open and moaning loudly. Cas shifted forward, pressing in until he was flush against Dean’s ass and held there. He felt Dean clench rhythmically around him and bit his lip to contain himself. 

“Cas, Cas – fuck, Cas – c’mon, move – move damn it – “ Dean babbled breathlessly, pressing back for more. Cas clutched a hand around Dean’s wing. Dean lurched forward and buried his face in the sheets again, a muffled string of obscenities falling from his lips. Cas smiled at Dean’s shoulders as he leaned forward, following Dean down until his chest was pressed along the length of Dean’s back. He dropped a kiss to where the wing met Dean’s shoulder. Dean clenched hard around Cas.

“Dean,” Cas breathed, his breath stirring feathers gently. Dean moaned back at Cas, who started thrusting slowly, cock dragging over Dean’s prostate in time to the little kisses he pressed along Dean’s wing. The stretch-burn of Cas’s cock contrasted pleasantly with the little tingles Cas’s lips sent shivering through his feathers, making Dean moan loudly. 

“More, Cas,” Dean breathed, shifting up on his knees so he could meet Cas thrust for thrust. 

“Yes Dean,” Cas said. He shifted too, hands trailing down Dean’s back to hold his hips in place as he thrust, a hard rhythm, driving gasps and moans out of Dean’s mouth. He felt Dean clench around him, the muscles rippling and contracting around Cas’s cock. A soft moan escaped Cas’s lips as he watched himself thrust into Dean, watching Dean stretch around his cock, taking him eagerly. He thrust into Dean faster, driving himself deeper into him, moaning with him. 

“Cas, Cas,” Dean babbled, rocking with each jerk of the angel’s hips. “Touch it – touch it, Cas. Please – “

“Yes, Dean,” Cas’s voice broke, his control slipping as his orgasm mounted, a deep warmth spreading over his stomach. Cas’s hand came up and stroked the wing lying against Dean’s shoulder, his other hand coming down to wrap around Dean’s cock. Dean jerked against Cas’s grip. 

“Yes – fuck, Cas - !”

“Dean –“ Cas pitched forward and came hard, pumping his orgasm deep into Dean. His hands kept stroking Dean until he came again and then he collapsed on top of him, careful not to crush the little wing. 

They lay like that for several minutes, catching their breath, before either of them spoke. 

“Fuck,” Dean breathed, turning his head to look at Cas. 

“Fuck,” Cas agreed, his lips turning up at the corners. “That was very intense.”

“You’re telling me,” Dean shifted a little underneath Cas before giving up and going limp. “Fuck.”

Cas pulled himself free and maneuvered himself onto the mattress beside Dean, tugging him up gently onto his chest so he could rub over Dean’s back. Dean settled into the crook of Cas’s arm comfortably. 

“Mm,” Dean murmured. Cas peeked at the wing over his shoulder. 

“I think your wing might grow,” Cas commented, fingers brushing the tips of Dean’s feathers. Dean shivered, his hand clenching on Cas’s chest momentarily. 

“Feels good, looks dumb,” Dean mumbled. Cas pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

“It will grow and look less dumb, I think.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

“I think it still has its uses.”

Dean made a face against Cas’s chest. Cas chuckled. “We’ll just have to encourage it to grow more.”

“Well if that’s how you propose to grow it out, I’m in.”

Cas laughed and kissed him again. “We’ll set a schedule, nurture it regularly…”

Dean pushed at him. “Shuddup.”

Cas pulled Dean closer to his chest, smiling. “Yes, Dean.”


End file.
